


Training Camp

by rushinoya



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan, 進撃の巨人 | Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Depression, F/F, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Rivals to Lovers, Strangers to Lovers, Volleyball, Volleyball AU, yumikuri
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:00:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29140431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rushinoya/pseuds/rushinoya
Summary: An Erejean high school volleyball club AU inspired by a little bit ofGivenand a little bit of2.43 Seiin HSVB/haikyuu.
Relationships: Eren Yeager & Original Male Character(s), Eren Yeager/Original Male Character(s), Jean Kirstein & Eren Yeager, Jean Kirstein/Eren Yeager, Krista Lenz | Historia Reiss & Ymir, Krista Lenz | Historia Reiss/Ymir, Levi & Erwin Smith, Levi/Erwin Smith, Mikasa Ackerman & Annie Leonhart, Mikasa Ackerman/Annie Leonhart, Reiner Braun & Bertolt Hoover, Reiner Braun/Bertolt Hoover
Kudos: 33





	1. Stairwell

Eren Jaeger shot out of bed, gasping for air, his body drenched in a layer of sweat. Cool air drifted in from the open window and he shivered. He stood up to close it, and just when he was about to lay back down, there was a soft knock at his door.

He sighed, standing back up to open the door. Mikasa was barely visible in the darkness of the hallway, but he could still see her expression knitted with concern. "I'm fine," he told her, knowing she must have heard him from her room next door.

"I could hear you crying," she told him. "And it's the middle of winter, but you're sweating."

"I said I'm fine," he repeated, moving to close the door on her. But Mikasa stuck out her arm, holding it open. "I just want to go back to sleep," he groaned, pushing on the door again but not hard enough to actually shove her out of the way.

"Eren."

His mouth hardened into a thin line. "I said I just want to _sleep_. You should go back to bed, too."

Mikasa knew why he was being stubborn, and she hated it. He didn't like being made to feel like the little brother - he preferred being the protector, rather than the protected - so she decided to turn that on him. "Well, I can't sleep if you're up all night whimpering like a baby," she scolded, squeezing past him and into his small room. "You're keeping _me_ up."

Eren sighed, closing the door softly behind her. He shuffled back toward his bed and tossed Mikasa a pillow and one of his blankets. She propped herself up against the wall at the foot of the mattress and curled up there.

"I was just going to sleep on the floor. You can have the bed," Eren offered, but Mikasa shook her head. "All right," he muttered. "But it's not my fault if I accidentally kick you."

"You don't kick hard enough to do any real damage." She closed her eyes, shoulders sagging as she began to drift off.

Eren slid under his sheets and pulled them up to his chin, shivering against the chill. He had given Mikasa the heavier blanket, so he struggled to get warm, but he didn't want to interrupt her night's sleep a second time. She may have looked completely out already, but he knew she was a light sleeper and that the slightest disturbance would wake her, and his ankle was stuck under one of her legs. _At least I can't have nightmares while I'm awake,_ he told himself, watching the clock on his night table tick the minutes by slowly.

-

"Hey, Jean!"

Even though his face was buried in his arms on his desk, he recognized Connie's voice anywhere. He felt him poke at his head, then his elbow, but he ignored him. "Jean," Connie repeated, "are you playing today?"

Jean Kirstein swatted Connie's hand away, then he stood up slowly. "I'm gonna go take a nap," he grumbled, rubbing his eyes as he grabbed his bag and trudged out of his classroom. He had a secret spot in one of the back stairwells that hardly anyone ever used, and he couldn't wait to lay down and take a nice. . .

He froze in the doorway, a scowl twisting his features. Someone else was in his prized napping in his spot, laying in the corner of the landing. Jean stomped up the steps and kicked the intruder's thigh.

Eren jolted awake and startled when he saw Jean standing over him. He wiped the small bit of drool from the corner of his mouth. "The hell was that for?"

"You're in my spot," Jean complained. "Move."

Eren narrowed his eyes. "You don't own the stairwell." He turned away from Jean then laid back down on his side, attempting to return to his short but much-needed nap before their break ended.

Jean's frown deepened and he kicked him again, but instead of getting up, Eren just held up his middle finger. "Little shit," Jean mumbled, sitting at the top of the stairs. He rested his head against the handrails and closed his eyes, but he couldn't sleep sitting up, and he wasn't about to lay down next to that pest.

He nudged him with his foot this time and saw Eren open one eye. "What?" he groaned.

"Don't you have anything better to do? Like a sport, or something?" Jean snapped.

"Don't _you_?"

Jean didn't answer and rested his head back against the rails. He saw Eren sit up out of the corner of his eye. "I mean it," the runt continued. "Aren't you the volleyball team's setter? Kristin, or something?"

"It's _Kirstein_ ," Jean snapped. "Jean Kirstein."

"I'll take that as a yes," Eren stretched his arms over his head and yawned. "Seriously, don't you have practice right now?"

Jean whipped his head around. "What's it to you?"

"Seems like a waste to be here while the rest of your team gets better," Eren answered, shrugging his shoulders. "What's the point in being on a team if you're not even going to put in the effort?"

Jean reached over and grabbed Eren by the collar of his shirt, scrunching the fabric in his fist. "Why don't you stay out of my business, okay?" He shoved him away again. "And find your own nap spot."

"Stop acting like you own the fucking stairs, you horse-face." Eren leaned over and whacked Jean on the back of the head. "If I could be on the volleyball team, I wouldn't be wasting my time fighting over a damn hallway!"

Jean smacked Eren's hand away. "Then _you_ go join the club, then, and let me have my fucking spot back!"

Eren's face immediately fell, and he set his arms on his knees. He stared blankly at his feet. "I. . . can't."

Jean furrowed his brows, both annoyed and confused. "What do you mean you-"

The door at the bottom of the stairs opened suddenly, interrupting Jean mid-sentence. A dark-haired girl in plain gym clothes was standing there, leaning against the open door. "Eren," she called, looking at the runt sitting next to Jean on the steps, "you were supposed to get tutoring from Annie today, remember?"

"I just wanted to get some sleep," Eren mumbled, rubbing his eyes. "Sorry. I forgot to tell her. She's not going to beat me up again, is she?"

The dark-haired girl walked up the steps slowly and sat down in front of them. Jean was dumbfounded. _That's Mikasa Ackerman,_ he remembered, the first-year wing spiker on the girl's volleyball team. She was on the starting lineup, and was already one of the best on the team despite being new. Most of the boy's team was obsessed with her. _What the hell is she doing talking to this scrawny punk?_

"She's not too mad," Mikasa answered. "But if you skip out on her again, she might be." She turned her gaze toward Jean, and he couldn't help but blush. "Jean, right? I didn't know you two were friends," she stated.

"We're not friends!" they each snapped in unison. 

"He was just in my spot," Jean added quietly, scratching the back of his head. "I don't even know him."

Mikasa raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you the boys' starting setter? Shouldn't you be practicing with them right now?"

Jean's face went pale, but he didn't really have an answer. Mikasa turned her attention back to Eren. "Don't worry about Annie today. I'll see you after school, okay?" She patted his knee then stood and left the same way she came. 

Jean whipped his head around toward Eren. "How the hell do you know _Mikasa_?"

"She's my sister," he answered. "Adopted," he added when he saw the look of confusion on Jean's face.

After a few minutes of awkward silence, the bell sounded, signaling that it was time for them to start heading back to their respective classes. Jean stood up, throwing his bag over his shoulder. "I better not see you here tomorrow, runt," he warned, but Eren hardly felt threatened.

The smaller boy sat perfectly still. Then, he looked up at Jean. "One condition," he said. "You tell me why you aren't practicing with your team."

Jean frowned. He didn't want to answer, but if it meant getting rid of Eren, he figured it was worth it. "I used to love volleyball. It was everything to me, actually. But lately, it's like the spark is just. . . gone. So, I don't really feel like it's worth being there. The team isn't getting any better, so I'm not getting any better by being there."

Eren was admittedly shocked that he had been given such an honest answer, and a little bit annoyed by what it turned out to be, but he didn't say anything. He only grabbed his bag and shoved past Jean and down the stairs toward his class.


	2. Stairwell, Part 2

When Jean had finished eating, he eagerly - albeit slowly - made his way toward his favorite stairwell. He was hardly thinking about that little runt, Eren, until he stepped through the double doors and saw him sleeping on the same landing, in the same awkwardly curled up position.

Jean intentionally slammed the door as loud as he could, and Eren shot upright, his brown hair tousled from the way he had been laying on it. "What the fuck?" he groaned, rubbing the sleep from his teal-green eyes. 

But Jean was too tired to yell from that distance. He had hardly slept the night before and trudged lazily up the steps before sinking onto the ground. Then, he swung his bookbag at Eren, hitting him right in the ribs. "What happened to finding your own spot, dickwad?"

"Nowhere else was quiet enough, asshole!" Eren cried out, gripping his side. Though he didn't think he had been hit hard enough for there to be any bruising, it still ached for the moment. "Go practice."

"I already told you why I can't." Jean leaned back against the rails, his long legs stretched out in front of him. He hated being next to the kid, but it was more comfortable than sitting on the steps themselves. "In fact, I vividly remember that being part of our fucking deal."

Eren laid back down on his side, his back to Jean. "Yeah, well, your answer was stupid, so I don't care about the deal."

Jean scrunched his face. "What the hell do you mean, _stupid_? Why do you care whether or not I play volleyball, anyway?"

"Because it's a waste of talent. And height."

Jean's face went red, and he was half-tempted to hit the little shrimp - _again_ \- but he decided not to. Instead, his shoulders sagged and he leaned his head back, staring up at the paneled ceiling and the tall windows leading up to it. April rain poured down outside, casting the stairwell in a greyish light. _Would be perfect for sleeping,_ he thought to himself, brows knitting together as he frowned.

Truthfully, though Jean wouldn't admit it out loud, Eren was right. Jean was naturally gifted, and he had been the star setter at his middle school. They would have won their National tournament in December had they not been crushed by the opposing team's infamous setter-spiker duo that had blown Jean's team out of the water. 

Shiganshina had a strong club, and they'd be even stronger if Jean put in the effort, but ever since that defeat in middle school, his motivation had slowly but surely declined. Despite his innate talents, he knew he would never reach the same level as _that_ setter.

"Aren't you supposed to get tutoring right now? What was her name again?" 

"Annie," Eren mumbled, his voice muffled by his arm. "She was sick today."

Jean sighed, trying to think of another way to convince Eren to leave his cherished stairwell as he blinked up at the ceiling. "You never told me why you won't join the volleyball club yourself, you know."

"I can't."

"That's not an answer!"

Eren sat up slowly, his shoulders hunched. He rubbed the back of his neck as he stared vacantly at the stairs. "I just. . . _can't._ "

Jean glared at Eren's slouching back, then nudged his spine with his foot. "Do you suck, or something?" Despite his words, the gentle tone of his own voice startled him. _I'm not going soft, am I?_

No, it wasn't that. Something about Eren was just. . . _sad_ , and he had noticed it last time when the same subject came up. It must have been getting to Jean. The guy was bringing down his whole mood.

Eren turned his head slightly, enough that Jean could see the side of his face from this angle. If he didn't know any better, he'd say the runt had tears in his eyes. "Sure. Let's go with that."

The bell chimed, but Jean didn't immediately stand up. "Did you play in middle school?"

Eren grabbed his bag from the corner then stood up. He wiped at his eyes with his sleeve. _Was he actually crying, then?_ Jean thought, confused, both by Eren and the fact that he might actually feel bad for him.

"I have to get to class."

Jean sighed, smacking his head against the rails behind him. Then he got to his feet and followed Eren down the stairs, half-jogging to catch up to him in the hallway. "Eren," he called, only to be ignored. But his legs were longer, and it didn't take much to close the distance between them. When he was close enough, he grabbed him by the arm. Eren finally stopped walking and turned around.

"I don't want to be late," he protested.

"Listen," Jean began, and he couldn't believe the words that were about to come out of his mouth, "if you're really that bad, why don't I help you? Hell, maybe you can replace me as a setter, or something. The Spring Tournament is coming up and they need someone a lot more dependable than me."

Eren yanked his arm from Jean's grasp. "Thanks, but I don't want to learn from a setter."

Jean huffed as Eren walked away, then squared his shoulders. _Be like that, then,_ he said to himself. _That's the last time I'll bother being nice to you, shrimp._

-

When Eren got home that day, the smell of something cooking greeted him at the door. Someone was home early, then, and he crossed his fingers that it was Erwin, knowing that he'd at least give Eren his space. He kicked off his shoes and stepped inside slowly. When he saw Levi at the stove, he cursed quietly to himself. He knew this had to come eventually, but he had at least hoped he would get more time to prepare.

Eren tried to sneak past the kitchen and straight to his room, but he should have known the effort was futile.

"Hey, Eren!" Levi called.

Eren scrunched his face then turned around slowly. Levi looked a little ridiculous scowling at him in Erwin's oversized apron, pointing at him with a cooking spoon, and it was almost enough to make Eren smile for the first time in months. Almost.

"What?"

Levi furrowed his brows. "Mikasa told me you actually talked to someone at school."

Eren groaned, cursing Mikasa in his head. "He was a dick who happened to be invading my space. That's all." At least he wasn't asking him about volleyball.

"She said he's the setter for the boy's volleyball team."

There it was. Eren's shoulders sagged in defeat. He scratched the back of his head. "Technically. I think he's going to quit the club, though. He says he doesn't like it very much, which is total bullshit."

Levi's frown deepened. "I thought he was just some dick who got in your space?"

"I don't want to talk about this," Eren dismissed, turning his back on Levi and walking toward his room. When he got there, he tossed his bag on the floor and crawled into bed, not even bothering to change. All he wanted was a nap.

-

A loud knock on his door disturbed Eren's fitful sleep. "Eren," a muffled voice called, and he recognized it as Levi's.

Mumbling swears under his breath, Eren kicked off his blankets and opened the door. "What?" he snapped.

Levi shoved a plate of food into Eren's hands. "You have to eat something."

"I'm not hungry." Eren tried to hand it back, but Levi only insisted.

"You don't eat breakfast, and I honestly don't believe you're eating at school. Eat."

"I said-"

"Nothing's going to get better if you rot away in the darkness all fucking day," Levi snapped, interrupting Eren before he could finish his sentence. He pushed past Eren and into his room, flinging open the drapes to let daylight in. The storm from earlier had dissipated, and bright sunlight poured in through the glass. Levi looked around, blank expression on his face. "This place is disgusting," he observed.

"Clean it, then."

Levi narrowed his eyes, then disappeared into the hallway. He returned moments later with gloved hands, the vacuum, and a trash bag. 

"I didn't _mean_ it. . ."

Levi ignored him and set to work. "I don't care what you meant. Go eat."

"But-"

He whipped his head around, his face stern. _"Go eat."_ It was clear that it was an order, not a request. 

Begrudgingly, Eren shuffled out of his room and into the living area. He sat at the table and picked at his food initially. Before he knew it, though, he was shoveling spoonfuls into his mouth. By the time Levi came out of his room, the plate was clean. "I told you," he said, taking Eren's plate and washing it in the sink.

"I could have done that," Eren objected, but once again, Levi ignored him. "Thank you," he sighed.

Without even looking at him, Levi said, "Don't need to thank me. Just do your best, all right?"


End file.
